


Physical Therapy

by Viridian5



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Humor, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Series, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 04:03:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2678327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crawford and Schuldig celebrate semi-quietly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Physical Therapy

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rosaleendhu for the beta.

Schuldig’s eyes lit up when he saw that Crawford’s bulky full-leg cast had been removed and he had a cane instead of crutches resting at the side of his chair. “Brad, if I knew they’d be dismembering and removing Bob today, I would’ve taken some time off work so I could watch.”

“It wasn’t _that_ entertaining.”

“Says you. I need to witness the execution of anything that limits my sex life that much.”

“Bob” had made too many acts far too awkward for the last six weeks, leaving them with just handjobs and occasionally ungainly blowjobs, toys, and Schuldig on top riding him. While Crawford usually fucked Schuldig instead of the other way around, after six weeks of having no other choice he _really_ wanted to get fucked.

His left leg had been broken in two places by a job suddenly turned nearly impossible: a wide variety of targets and assailants in several locations followed by an explosion and debris, with Crawford’s precognition unable to cover all of it. Schuldig, however, made it out without a scratch, to his often vocal and smug pleasure.

“I was witness enough. I’m not ready to get back out into fieldwork though, because I lost a lot of muscle tone and have to do physical therapy.” Unhappily, he had to commit all his mayhem by phone, computer, or proxy these days and missed cracking skulls and shooting people down close enough to see their reaction as they died. That little bit of sniper work hadn’t satisfied him.

Schuldig grinned. “Speaking of physical therapy....”

“Dinner first.”

“You want it as much as I do.”

“We need to eat. To keep up our strength.”

“Fine. You know, now that you’re not on crutches anymore you should’ve brought me slippers and the newspapers when I got home from work.”

“I’m your partner, not your dog. Besides, you don’t read newspapers.”

“Not on paper. Online. So bring me my laptop then.”

“You’re hilarious. And home later than usual.”

As Schuldig took off his black leather gloves, stuck them in the pockets of his long black coat, and hung up his coat, he answered, “The client felt the need to do a villainous monologue on a rooftop. Even though it’s February and cold and windy as fuck. While I understand needing to do a monologue somewhere dramatic under the pale moonlight now and then--”

“I can’t relate,” Crawford said dryly.

“--there’s a proper time and a place for everything.”

“I didn’t get the impression he was that kind of client.”

“He’s had a lot of successes lately, which is making him feel his oats or whatever.”

Schuldig wore a bespoke suit in a blue just a shade too bright to look traditionally professional, having become subtler in his fashion affronts to society. It had been tailored so his gun and holster wouldn’t ruin the line of the jacket. He looked _good_ , sharp and sleek, and it seemed almost a shame to undress him later. 

“This may or may not amuse you: his daughter wants me,” Schuldig said with a smirk.

“She’s less than half your age.”

“34 isn’t ancient! And since you’re five years older than me, what does that make you? You don’t get little girls drooling over you because your silver hair makes them think of grandfathers. Fortunately for you, I’m into grandfathers.”

“Fuck you.”

“I’m hoping for the other way around, actually.”

“At 16 does she even really know what to do with you?”

“The internet helps. Her thoughts are part fluff, part appreciating my flexibility and imagining what I could do with it, part wondering how large my dick is, and part wanting to dress and undress me like I’m her doll. Pretty peacock that I am, I’m not like any of her other bodyguards.”

“I’m sure. Your client thinks you’re gay, right?”

“Because he thinks in old stereotypes and, to him, bisexuals are as mythical as unicorns. Right. That’s why he leaves me alone with his daughter more often than he does the other guys.” 

With greater life experience, Schuldig had only become even better at modulating the level of menace he radiated. To one person he could seem dangerous and vicious enough to win fights, kill at a client’s command, and protect his employer from all comers, yet honorable enough to be trusted around a naïve girl (even though naïve girls were some of his favorite targets). He prided himself on being able to do that without having to telepathically coerce a person into believing him. 

“That could lead to tragedy.”

“Not in this case. She’s not interesting; I’m not interested. It’s bad enough having to be around her thoughts when I’m guarding her.”

“You’ve gotten particular. You used to be an equal opportunity destroyer.”

“Shut up. But if you _want_ me to ruin my client’s family....”

“No, I don’t. Forget it. I was thinking we could get food delivered in. What do you want?”

Crouching in front of Crawford, Schuldig said, “I’m not hungry for _food_.” He set his hand on Crawford’s fly and started to stroke. The rest of Crawford he stroked with his voice. “I’m hungry for _you_. I want to bend you over a table and go _so_ deep into you.... I know you want it too. After weeks of mostly awkward sex, you _deserve_ a good fucking and I can make it _so_ good. Haven’t you already waited long enough?”

The responsible adult thing to do would be to have dinner first, but his erect and very hard cock along with his weeks of doing without didn’t care about any of that. “...actually, yes.”  

Schuldig grinned. “I live to serve.”

  


* * *

Bent over the dining room table with Schuldig’s hard thick cock thrusting into him hard, deep, and perfectly, Schuldig’s long fingers stroking his cock or clenching on his hips and his lips or teeth eventually grazing the back of Crawford’s neck, hot skin against hot skin, Crawford could barely think through the pleasure and his lust. As a concession to his comfort, they’d put a soft thick towel on the table and hanging a bit over its edge, and the feel of it sliding against his skin added another enticing layer of sensation. Although Schuldig had been fucking him for a while now, both of them staved off orgasm, wanting this to last, the pain and strain in his weakened left leg be damned. But then it started to shake badly, the traitor. If it collapsed under him he could balance on his right leg, but they’d have to change their positioning and angle somewhat to keep hitting Crawford’s sweet spot. Doable but annoying.

“I don’t want any collapses here,” Schuldig murmured, “so let’s be proactive.” 

He pulled out, turned Crawford around, picked him up and sat him on the edge of the table, pushed his legs apart, adjusted his positioning to get the best angle, and thrust back in so smoothly and swiftly that Crawford barely noticed a break, though he did instinctively put his arms down on the table for leverage. Face to face, with Schuldig between his legs and up against him, kissing him and jerking him off as he fucked him, blue eyes bright and hot with lust and appreciation, completely focused on him, Schuldig became his world and made all the pleasure feel more intense. Losing the distraction of his painful, whining left leg helped too. Although he wanted to hold out longer, he climaxed, and he did it so hard that he might have blacked out for a moment. Schuldig’s thrusts became less controlled, and he moaned into their kiss as he came.

They remained close, still connected, radiating heat at one another, Crawford’s legs still wrapped around Schuldig’s waist and Schuldig resting his forehead against Crawford’s. 

“Fuck, I missed that,” Schuldig murmured. 

“Me too.”

“Get that leg back up to fighting strength as soon as possible because I miss killing with you too.”

Although it secretly warmed Crawford to hear it, he had to say, “I didn’t know you could get so mushy.”

“Oh, shut up. I’m more than hard enough to keep you satisfied.”

 

### End


End file.
